Be My Rainbow
by NellietheMarvelous
Summary: Castle can be a snoop. He knows it, Beckett knows it, but what happens when he stumbles upon something hidden beneath her bed? He wants the story, but it isn't one he's expecting.
1. Rainbow

**Disclaimer: I make baby blankets for a living and write fanfiction...therefore, I do not own Castle. **

**A/N: This is based off of personal experience. I just HAD to write this when I found a certain something in my closet. I hope you enjoy the story and what I tried to accomplish with it. Just a little snippet in their beautiful relationship. I almost put this in my collection 'Forever and A Day' but I decided to leave it as a stand alone.  
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**Dedicated to my mother - thank you for being my rainbow on rainy days, I love you** **always**.

He knows better. He really does but he's _bored - _she can tell and she promised she'd be back in five minutes and it's been at least twenty. Maybe more. So she really should have expected this. Usually in this situation he would just doze off but he's awake now and she's not in the room to entertain him. Well, she is sort of in the room but he can't see her yet. Does it really take that long to get a glass of water? No, it doesn't but she's hungry and knows he is too - she rummaged for food. So really it's her fault for leaving him to his own devices in _her _bedroom.

It starts innocently, he just runs his hand over the table by the bed - almost as if he's admiring the polished wood. He spends so much time admiring _other _things while in this room, it's distracting. She knows what those hands feel like on her skin - how he smooths them over the curves of her body, how he can make her fall apart with just those dexterous hands. Sometimes she wonders if it's normal to still be this affected by him after being together for a year. Like now, when she's watching him in the shadows and biting her lip because he's just so damn adorable that it hurts. The look on his face is pure excitement as he opens the drawer and pokes around in it - like a kid in a candy store.

He's snooped many times - she gave him his own drawer so it really should be okay for him to do so and it is, within reason. Occasionally he goes too far but it really doesn't bother her as much as it used to. He should know she doesn't mind but sometimes she catches the worry that crosses his features as if he's afraid she'll yell at him. Probably because she wasn't exactly thrilled when he found her little stick man in her desk. That was different - they are closer now than ever before and perhaps, she's just become used to his poking around.

Last week, it was her jewelry. It's almost as if he can't help himself, as if he just _needs _to know things about her that no one else does. He needs to see things she doesn't show anybody and she understands. She does because she feels the same way and maybe she noses around in his things too...maybe. She's caught him before but said nothing except for the first couple of times - he's never caught her, she's too good.

She watches from the doorway as he stumbles to his feet, a little wobbly from their recent round of love making - at least that's what she likes to think. It _was_ pretty intense. Always is. Maybe that's what it's like when you really love someone. Maybe this is normal. Does it really matter if it is or isn't? No, she doesn't think it does but it's just one of those string of random thoughts that her brain subjects her to.

He trips over a pillow in the floor and she stifles a laugh at the look on his face as he catches himself before tumbling. It's a little hard to believe that the dorky man-child can be such a serious, passionate, and _determined _lover. He's so many things and she loves all of them - even his childish antics that sometimes land him in hot water. He's just everything.

Her heart flutters when he bends to pick up the pillow wearing nothing but his birthday suit - she sees the moment his eyes catch on something hidden and she knows. She knows exactly what he's found that has piqued his interest. His hand reaches for the medium sized box beneath the bed. She could stop him before he gets it out but she doesn't. She wants to share this with him - she does however, step out from the shadows with the glass of water and plate stacked with grilled cheese sandwiches.

His fingers grasp at what the box holds and she sets the food and glass down on the nightstand - the sound startles him and she almost laughs when he whips around to face her like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I uh, just...there was a pillow..."

"The pillow made you do it - is that what you're going with?" She arches an eyebrow playfully. "Gotta watch out for those pillows, Castle, they're sneaky little troublemakers."

"You're not -"

"Mad? No." He breathes out a sigh of relief and she grabs the box from him to sit it on the bed. She'd forgotten how heavy it was. "You want to know the story behind it, don't you?"

"Writer, Kate, I always want the story."

"Maybe you should find your boxers first." She watches the defiance dance in his eyes and just shakes her head when he crawls in, rests his back against the headboard and pulls the blanket up to his hips.

"When I know the _only_ thing you're wearing is my shirt? I don't think so." He looks incredibly proud of himself as he pats the space next to him and for a fleeting second, she considers sitting at the bottom of the bed just to wipe that smug grin off his face but she doesn't.

With a roll of her eyes, she gently drops down beside him and folds her legs under her. He says nothing as she drags the box to rest in front of her knees and slowly opens it. He's waiting. She knows he already got a peek but she reaches in like it's a surprise and pulls out the contents quickly. It spills over them both, and she knocks the box into the floor to give them more space.

"It's..." His hands grasp and grope over the blanket as if he doesn't know what to make of it. The colors are bold blues, purples, greens, yellows - there's even orange.

"Loud?" There's a reason it isn't on her bed - even though it holds a special place in her heart.

"Vibrant. Beautiful. Kate, did you make this?"

"Not really." His eyes catch hers and she knows he's itching to hear how this crocheted rainbow ended up in their laps. He's got that expression on his face and she sees so much in it - love, intrigue, patience. Taking a breath, she runs her fingers over the stitches and lets it out. "I was sixteen and my boyfriend had just dumped me."

He makes a disgruntled noise and kisses her temple. She feels him mutter 'stupid boy, lucky me' against her skin and can't help but smile. Always the charmer but he's _hers_.

"Of course I thought it was the end of the world at the time being a teenage girl, but my mom brought me this rainbow ball of yarn and a crochet hook - I thought it was stupid. She told me that I would be okay, that I would look back on it and laugh at how upset I was but I didn't believe her. I didn't want to talk to her after that but she wasn't really one to let me get away with the silent treatment."

She pauses to gauge his reaction and he's just watching her, waiting for her to let him in just a little bit more. He has the patience of a saint. Not always but when it counts.

"She kept showing up in my room when I got home from school with that stupid yarn and finally I asked why. I let her tell me a story about how her mother had taught her to crochet but she rarely had time for it. Then she taught me, said it would help me relax and that anytime I was having a bad day, I could take something as small and simple as yarn and turn it into something beautiful."

"So you did make this?"

"No. I managed the first row and got bored. I didn't know it at the time but I made it way too long and it took forever so I put it in my closet and just forgot about it. Until I was upset over something and she'd get it out and we'd take turns. She did most of it while we sat there and talked. The older I got - the more I appreciated it and the more I pushed to finish it."

"After those rebellious years of yours?" He sounds entirely too pleased with himself and she pinches his side just to hear him yelp.

"Hm, yes. And even during. It took almost three years to finish because I made it big enough to fit a king size bed. Some nights we'd be up all night."

"You made it together." The understanding in his voice is soft but she catches it and lets herself burrow into his side as he pulls the obnoxiously bright blanket over them.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's the only thing either one of us ever crocheted." A small laugh spilled from her lips as she looked down at it. "Of course it had to be rainbow."

"It's lovely, Kate. We should leave it on our bed." She feels him tense against her and knows that he hadn't meant to let 'our bed' slip into that sentence. But it's true. She doesn't share the bed with anyone else - it's theirs.

"Not all the time - maybe when we're having a bad day."

"Was today a bad day?" They both know it wasn't but he's fishing and perhaps just this once, she'll bite.

"You know, it kinda was." His face lights up, those blue eyes she loves so much sparkle brightly and she can't resist him at all when he's being like this. "What do you say we make it better?"

She knows the huskiness of her voice will give him ideas but she just loves to tease him - to feel him react to it and the way his eyes turn almost cobalt. He's so easy but then again so is she because the second he twists and pins her beneath him, the air leaves her lungs and her body arches in anticipation. This will never get old.

"And just what ways would make it better, Detective?" His hand sneaks beneath the hem resting on her thigh, teasing higher with every second that passes. She opens her mouth to tell him that she's hungry and there's food but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh because his lips are on her neck and he's touching her with those _hands_.

He growls in her ear - literally growls - and she's done. Done trying to resist. Forget the food. Forget everything, she wants him. She loves him. Forever. Always. Infinitely.

She doesn't say a word as his fingers bunch in the fabric covering her hips. His shirt. She loves wearing his clothes and he loves seeing her in them - or out of them. He isn't picky - she's noticed. Her back arches forcefully when one of his hands dips between her thighs, his touch is electric. Always warm and sure.

"I knew you didn't have anything else on."

"Wasn't exactly hiding it, Cas..._oh._" She loves this side of him, the fun and playful side that carries over into their sex life. The way his fingers dance against her flesh - the way he pushes one inside her just to tease. Her hips jerk against him and she can feel him smile against her collarbone. Two can play that game.

She wraps an arm around his neck, tugs him closer and latches her teeth onto his ear. The hiss he lets out and the way he shifts against her leg is most satisfying but she has other plans. He's commented about her 'sneaky little hands' before and this time she makes sure he doesn't see it coming.

Her mouth works over his jaw, teeth scraping along his stubble and she can feel his sigh against her skin. He never hides from her like this and she doesn't hide from him either. She doesn't shy away and he never makes her feel awkward about anything. They work. He doesn't notice her fingers until it's too late and she has them wrapped around a very prominent part of his anatomy.

"Jesus, Kate!"

"You're teasing so I'm taking matters into my own hands - so to speak." He chokes out a groan and she knows she's won for now. He'll get her back later but she's the champion of this round. With a twist of her hips, she sends him sprawling to his back and she's straddling him. He loves it when she does this - his eyes widen and his lips part and she absolutely adores him.

She likes to tease him too. They both enjoy it a little too much - pushing each other to the edge but never letting them fall over. Not this time though - she doesn't want to wait and she just wants him.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you like this." He's being sweet tonight - showering her with affection. It's her reward for sharing but she really wants something quick and dirty. "You're ama-"

She sinks down on him, taking him inside with a quick thrust of her hips. He swallows his words and pushes up into her. It's their rhythm, give and take. Always making sure everything is equal effort.

"Shh, Castle. No more talking." He listens, knowing what she wants - she's made it quite clear. Her lips smother his, her tongue running along the seam until he opens up and lets her inside. It's only fair, he's already inside her. His hands clench on her hips, almost bruising and she's okay with that. God, she's okay with it. A gasp floods from her mouth into his and then all bets are off. He sharply thrusts into her as she slides down, a moan this time. She doesn't know if it's from her or him.

His fingers find the buttons of the shirt covering her and suddenly they're working to uncover her breasts, she helps by tugging the fabric aside. Partners. She speeds up the motion of her hips, her hands steady themselves against his chest and her head falls back. He's told her before that she's extraordinary like this - with her hair cascading in waves and her mouth falling open in exquisite pleasure.

She's already close, her body is humming, it's coiling in her abdomen and she wants to feel that release but she doesn't ever want this to end. He's solid and hot and wreaking havoc on her body. Oh, he's _there _always there. Her back bows and a cry spills from her lips because he's sitting up, pushing further inside of her and she's in his lap, writhing against him. It's perfect. He's perfect.

He's holding her, tight enough that she can now only rock against him and bury her face in his shoulder. Her fingers dig into his back, nails biting into his skin but she's almost there and just a little more and she'll...

"Kate, please tell me you're just as close as I am." His voice is rough and strained. He's trying to wait and it's sweet but she needs to feel him. His thumb slides between their bodies, stroking over her and making her rock harder against him. She wants to tell him she's right there with him but all she can do is nod into his neck and nip softly at his jaw.

Their movements grow sloppy and she's starting to tense, she can feel it coming all the way down into her bones - can feel his sweat slicked skin, taste just how close he is to letting go and the moment he grips her hair to gently tug her lips up to his mouth, she's gone. Over the edge and into oblivion with the stroke of his tongue. The coil snaps and her entire body shivers, unraveling in his lap into a mess of limp limbs. He's still kissing her, loving on her lips like they're precious gold - holding her head tenderly.

The moment he moans against her and goes completely still, she knows he's right there with her. Their kisses slow, turn lazy but she doesn't want to stop. She stays in his lap, locking her ankles behind his back and stoking her fingers along his cheek. He's beautiful like this. Out of breath and sweaty with a slight tremor in his body from their exertion.

"You okay there, Castle - getting too old?"

"Never. Never too old for you." His eyes open and the light cuts through her. Those eyes have always been her favorite part of him. Expressive beautiful blue eyed man.

"I'll remind you of that when you're eighty." She barely has the words out before he's squeezing her and burying his face in her hair. For a few minutes she lets him but she's not sure why he's suddenly clinging to her.

"You plan on being here that long?" It hits her like a ton of bricks. By 'here' he really means 'with me' and her face softens. She cards her fingers through his hair, lets her heart swell in her chest because yes. Yes, she does.

"Always."

* * *

It's later, when they're eating cold grilled cheese that he decides to ask questions about the blanket she made with her mother. She doesn't mind really but her brain is numb and her body is liquid and all she wants to do is finish her sandwich and then settle in for the night.

"Why are some of the stitches loose and other ones are really tight?" Her face flushes with embarrassment but she hides it behind a smile.

"I told you that she taught me to crochet - I never said I was good at it."

"Something that Kate Beckett isn't good at? Give me a second while I, hmph - " It's not her fault that her hand flies up by itself and shoves the half eaten grilled cheese into his open mouth. He deserves it anyway. All that teasing.

"Eat your sandwich, Castle."

**a/n: I made a blanket like this with my mother and I found it today. Just thought I'd turn it into something others could enjoy too. Also, wrote this quickly, any typos are definitely my own. If you point them out kindly, I'll go back and fix them.  
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**Also might expand on this, if there's anything anyone would like to see happen with this, let me know.**


	2. Green

**Disclaimer: Well, I'm super frustrated today but it hasn't nothing to do with owning Castle...because I don't.  
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**A/N: I really do appreciate everyone who reads and reviews my stuff. You guys make writing worth it. I decided to continue this but it's going to be a color based story of connected one shots. Everything ties in together but it's not a plot based fic. It's a here-are-some-cute-moments fic and occasional sexy times.  
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**Green - Color of balance and growth.**

Okay, Kate will admit that it's stupid and probably the cheesiest thing she's ever done but she just can't resist the urge. Besides, Castle will love it. Hopefully. No, he will because it's a small gesture. It's warm and even though it seems dumb to everyone else - he will understand. There's something about it that calls to her and before she can second guess herself, she's asking for two of the brightly colored green cupcakes and paying the cashier.

She leaves the small shop with a smile plastered across her face. Anyone who sees her probably thinks there's something wrong with her but she's just happy. She's headed home for the day and she knows that Castle is already there, waiting. It's going to be a good night. They solved a case, tomorrow is her day off and she's all for staying up late and sleeping in. A lazy day with him sounds amazing. Especially now that she has a little something for him.

She takes her phone out as soon as she's back in her car and shoots him a simple text that she knows will drive him up the wall. That's the point. She wants him guessing. She wants his crazy theories and ideas.

_'Be home soon. Got a little something for u.' _It doesn't even take him two seconds to reply.

_'What is it?' _Well that's a little disappointing he usually always starts with a...her phone vibrates in her hand and she smiles. There it is - the guess she was expecting. _'Is it a puppy?'_

She frowns at the phone. Really. That's his guess. A dog? He must be distracted. She tells him no, and shoves the phone back in her pocket. She'll let him suffer for a little bit.

It takes her longer than usual to get home because something else pops into her head and she just has to do it. So she stops, spends at least fifteen minutes looking for what she needs and then she's back in her car - driving home. She's never really been like this with guys but everything is so different with him.

So yeah, she's going a little out there and doing something she normally wouldn't even think of. Okay, perhaps she'd think of it but her insecurities and the walls usually stop her. Not with him.

It takes her over an hour to get home. Another fifteen minutes to get out of the car and head up to her apartment. Her phone has been going off in her pocket for the last several minutes but she's been ignoring him. He'll see soon enough. She never should have told him that she got him something.

He's calling her before she can make it to her door and she almost lets it go to voice mail but knowing him, he would take that as a sign that she's been abducted or something equally ridiculous. She doesn't answer with a hello, there's no point.

"Castle, I'm six feet from the door."

"Is it something I can _enjoy_?" His voice is deep, rough and the way he says the word 'enjoy' should be a crime. Her body responds but she hides it, plays along with him.

"Hm, well I suppose you could. I've been told these are absolutely sinful - creamy, soft, _moist._" He splutters for a response, settles on a groan and she smiles, rolls her eyes. He's so easy. "I'm hanging up now, unlock the door."

She's two steps away when she hears the lock click and her door swings open. He's standing there, a look on his face that she knows all too well and she can't stop the chuckle from escaping. Just a short ten second phone call and he's ready to jump her as soon as she steps over the threshold. His body crowds her, blocks her path and she has no choice but to push lightly against his shoulders.

"Easy there, Castle."

"You can not say things like that and expect me to just let you walk in as if you rattled off a grocery list." She bites her lip, amused by the fact that he's comparing the gift to food as if it isn't exactly that. He really has no clue and it's adorable.

He hasn't even noticed the two bags in her hand - doesn't really seem to care. She shakes them, makes them crinkle and offers her free hand to him. He takes it, follows as she leads him to the counter. Hope swells in her chest and she gets a little nervous. He's the only one who makes her feel like this but he doesn't even know it. He's just stepping up behind her, letting his chest press to her back and she shoots him a warning glance over her shoulder.

Her hand might shake a little when she slowly unravels the top of one crisp white bag. She stops, thinks about it and then whirls around in his arms.

"Close your eyes."

"Hm. Sexy. I like it already." He obeys and she steps away from his embrace just to keep an eye on him. She can't do that if he's behind her. She wants to be sure he doesn't peek.

After three seconds watching him skeptically, she decides he's going to listen and sets about getting everything ready. The cupcakes come out first and she's glad they were in a plastic dish because they still look perfect. She knows he smells the sweets, his nose twitches as he takes it in. Next, she gets the plastic bag, fishes out the supplies. Two candles and a lighter. She knows she probably has some lying around but she didn't want to waste time looking for them. Buying new ones seemed smarter.

She disposes of the wrappers, clears off the counter and finally sticks one candle in each cupcake. She hopes he understands and that he sees her meaning for all of it. She just saw the cupcakes and thought of him. Maybe it's dumb - no, it's not, she knows he'll be in awe of this. Before she talks herself out of it, she lights each candle and pushes the sweets closer to where he's still standing with his eyes firmly shut.

She pretends she didn't see him try to sneak a peek when she was getting the candles out of the bag. For his sake, she'll let it go. Only because there is no way he saw anything. The flame flickers and she steps between him and the counter - the same spot she'd extricated herself from moments before. She raises a hand to touch his chest and his eyes open. She's blocking his view and she sees the confusion settle in his gaze when he gives her a once over.

"Don't look so disappointed that I kept my clothes on, Castle."

"Not disappointed...just not sure what -" She steps to the left, still standing just a little in front of him. She watches his face, watches as he takes in the candle in each cupcake and her mouth opens to explain. It's kind of a thing she does when she's unsure and nervous.

"I uh, I don't really know why but I thought of you - probably because you wanted cupcakes the other day - and we've been together almost a year -"

"In three days." She smiles when he cuts in. Of course he's counting it down. She is too.

"So I thought maybe I could do this for us. I know it's just a cupcake and a candle but..." Her sentence trails off, she isn't sure where she was going with it and her eyes cut to the counter. The candles are flickering, wax dripping down the sides.

"Kate this is -"

"I know it seems a little dumb."

"No, Kate this is the sweetest thing any woman has ever done for me - with me." His fingers grab at her wrist and she fights the smile threatening to rip her face in half. She loses and her eyes light up when she sees that the look on his face is the same one he had when she shared the story behind her rainbow blanket. "We making a wish?"

"That was the idea."

"On three: one, two," She joins the countdown and as soon as 'three' is out of their mouths, they both lean forward and blow out a candle. She wishes for more. More of him in her life, more days they can be together and enjoy it.

He catches her by surprise, takes her chin in his hand and guides her mouth up to his. It's warm and hot, his arm wrapping around her back pulls her flush against him in a quick move that makes her gasp against his lips. She loves it when he does that but she isn't about to let him distract her when there's a delicious vanilla cupcake with her name on it.

"Castle." He pulls back when she mumbles his name into him. "I want to eat my cupcake."

He lets her go with pout but she knows that he's just as thrilled with the idea. The man was grumbling two days ago because he wanted cupcakes. They reach at the same, take a bite at the same time. The flavor explodes on her tongue, the cake moist and practically melting in her mouth. Her eyes roll back and she moans. The frosting is flavored but it takes her a minute to pick up the distinct taste of...apples? That's a weird thought when it comes to cupcakes but the taste is amazing.

"Are these apple and vanilla?" He's just as perplexed by the idea as she is.

"Tastes like it."

"Tastes heavenly." He's right. They do and with another bite she's lifting a thumb to brush frosting off the corner of his mouth. Yeah she wants more days like this.

Another bite and she's picking up her phone just to check the time and really, twelve messages? She smirks at him, watches as he licks his finger before she turns her attention to the texts. All guesses, each getting more ridiculous - a proton pack for example - and it's when she reaches the twelfth that she snorts with laughter.

"Really, Castle? You really think I would get _you_ a pair of stilettos?" He looks up as he finishes off the sweet treat and she's met with a devilish grin. "I have to admit, I'd pay money to see you walk around in them."

"That is not what I meant. I was thinking maybe you bought yourself a pair of sexy," He steps closer and she lets him lift the phone from her hand. "sophisticated, heels and that perhaps you might model them for me..."

She waits for it because he isn't quite done, but he's pausing for dramatic effect. Always a writer. He ghosts his mouth along her jaw and she smiles, cards her fingers through his hair. His nose touches her neck, rubs along her skin and she almost drops the rest of her cupcake. It's when he takes her earlobe between his teeth that he finishes his sentence.

"Nude."

"Well, sorry to disappoint." Her voice is breathier than she'd like but it still serves for the purpose.

"I'm anything but disappointed right now, Kate." She pulls back from the way he's lavishing her skin, ducks her head to the side to see his eyes. He's being truthful and she feels the hope that had bubbled in her chest explode into pure happiness. They fight, they don't always see things eye to eye but they will be okay.

"On that note, I think there might be a pair of heels you haven't seen in the back of my closet." A spark lights in his gaze and Beckett takes that small moment to bump her hips against his. "What do you say to a little fashion show?"

**a/n: I might be kind of in love with this chapter. **


	3. Red

**Disclaimer: I can't even afford college. Nuff said.  
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**A/N: This was stuck in my head and since it didn't fit with any of my other stories, I tweaked it a bit and decided to throw it into this one.  
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**Red - color of strength, the will to survive, love, sex.**

Her back hits the door, hard, unforgiving and god, yes. She needs it. Needs to feel the force her lover is expressing. He's upset, she can tell in the way his fingers bruise the skin at her hips - gripping so tight she's almost in pain. She is in pain actually, but it's her arm. It stings, burns, aches. It's the reason he's assaulting her neck, sucking and biting and she never wants him to stop.

His teeth hit the sensitive spot just below her ear and her knees buckle. He catches her, hitches her leg up and over his waist. It's fast and rough and she just wants everything gone. The world. Their clothes. All of it. She rolls her hips into his, making it known that she's more than ready for this. He growls against her jaw before he bites at her bottom lip.

She should be ashamed of the moan that slips out of her mouth but she isn't. Not at all. He makes her feel good. Always. Even when he's roughly tugging at her pants - no grace to their movements. Just raw passion. He needs it - needs the affirmation and she does too. It was too close today. Too much of a reminder.

Red. It's still staining her shirt. The blood. He paws at it, tries to divest her of it but it's useless. Neither of them are coordinated enough at this point. His hands are all over, up her shirt, squeezing her breast, pinching at her nipple. She needs him. Now.

"Cas-" She can't form the rest of his name, it's dead on her tongue because he's somehow pushed her slacks down far enough to snake his fingers into her panties and _oh,_ it's so close to what she needs. He doesn't tease, doesn't linger more than a few seconds before he's hitching her up the wall and she's kicking off her pants to wrap her legs around his waist.

Oh. When did his pants come off? She doesn't know, doesn't care but the feel of him sliding into her steals her last coherent thought. He's hot and hard and just perfect.

It isn't loving - well it's always out of love - but it's raw and hard and her back scrapes against the door with every quick thrust of his hips. They're alive. She clings to him, nails scratching down his cotton covered back when she's close. Teeth imprinting into his shoulder when he breathes her name against her chest. He's life. He's reassurance. He's...so damn good at this.

Her body clenches, ready to fall and he's right there with her, sweaty and unable to hold on. He cries out first, into the safety of her neck as he gives in to the day, the pleasure of being inside of her - she follows less than a second after, muscles tightening, mouth clamping down once again on his shoulder. If it hurts, he doesn't complain.

His shirt is dry against her tongue, the texture foreign and she releases it quickly. Hopes she didn't bruise him too bad but she just can't control herself when he's like this. When they're both high on adrenaline. Hearts pounding, breath ragged, limbs melting. Her legs drop to the floor. She doesn't know how she's managing to stand but when she lifts her head from his shoulder, looks at him, she loses the ability to do so and sags into him. He stumbles back, holds her like he'll never have another chance.

It takes a good ten minutes before she pulls back, regains her ability to think and speak. She glances down, sees her shoes and pants lying haphazardly in her living room floor. They barely made it through the door and she doesn't even remember the elevator ride up or losing any of her clothing.

Her arm is stinging like a son of a bitch. He cups her cheek, draws her attention - as if it could be anywhere else - and kisses her softly. It feels apologetic, the way he strokes his tongue over her swollen lip but never pushes it further. It's short, barely a kiss at all but when he opens his eyes and she's met with his terrified blue gaze, she can't even find it in herself to smile.

"Kate,"

"Let's go to bed." She intertwines their fingers, tugs him towards her bedroom. She doesn't laugh when he stumbles over the pants still wrapped around his ankles - just gives him the time to kick off his shoes and untangle himself from the restrictive fabric. On another night, she'll laugh about all of this. He will too. But not tonight.

She doesn't turn on the light, there's no need. She can still see him in the orange glow of her room. The setting sun provides the reddish tint. It's almost romantic. Would be under different circumstances. She tries to take her shirt off, curses under her breath when pain shoots through her arm, slicing along her muscles and burning into her chest.

He helps. Carefully extracts her arm from the blood soaked sleeve to uncover the white block of bandage. His eyes lock onto it as she drops her shirt by the dresser and moves to unhook her bra. He's still staring at it when she's naked before him - as she tugs at the buttons on his shirt with one hand.

"Castle, take your shirt off. Come lie down with me." He squeezes her hip when she moves but she gives him a look - one of soft eyes and a small smile - and he lets go. She regrets refusing the sling. Things would probably be easier if she'd just taken it like the doctor insisted.

Before she crawls onto the bed, she pulls their blanket from underneath it. The brightly colored rainbow that she knows he absolutely loves. She curls up with it, rests on her uninjured side and watches as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt, shrugs out of it, and moves to join her.

She holds up the corner of the blanket - fights against the red hot flare that swims through the veins in her arm - and he's there. He's warm and he's beside her. He reaches and she lets him touch, let's him have anything he needs to prove she's okay. His fingers are gentle against the bandage, barely pressing at all. He slides them down, maps out a trail to the scar between her breasts.

"S'okay."

"No." His voice shakes and she hates it. Hates that this happened. "You got shot."

"In the arm Castle, not the chest." She's pretty shaken up too but not like him. "I'm okay."

"We just celebrated our one year anniversary a few weeks ago - I can't...I-"

"You won't." She can't really promise such things. Her job is dangerous. She might eventually meet her demise because of it. "At least not today and I promise that I'll always do what I can to ensure I make it home alive. Besides, I have a pretty kickass partner."

His lips lift just a little and it's enough. It's what she's wanting to see.

"I hear he's a ruggedly handsome fellow." Now he's just fishing but if it makes him feel better then she'll bite - but just this once.

"He is. He's also a complete pain in my ass." A sharp pinch to her bare rear makes her yelp and she's a little too stunned to do anything more than glare.

"Just keeping up appearances." That's better. He's grinning and the storm that had been clouding his eyes has dissipated. She scoots closer, presses her body into his, tangles their legs together. A sigh leaves his chest and she knows what's coming before he ever opens his mouth and sets it free. "I never thought I'd have to see you take another bullet."

"Castle,"

"It was like my mind just took me back to that day in the cemetery and I -"

"Castle, don't. Don't think about it. I'm alive, we're here - together." She lets him hug her, kiss her cheek and if she's completely honest, she needs it too. Just like their rough encounter against her door. It was needed. By both of them.

"You win, we'll just be here, in this moment but for the record, I hate the color red." She chuckles, silently agrees with him before she feels herself giving in to the buzz of pain pills.

**a/n: Uh...yeah, this chapter just came out of nowhere. I'll just be over there...in the corner, blushing profusely. **


	4. Purple

**Disclaimer: Still a no.  
**

**A/N: So I have a new story that I want to post BUT I really want to finish up all my other Castle fics first. Starting with this one. And since I always wanted this to have 10 Random chapters. It's going to have 10 Random chapters. 6 more to go.**

**Purple - color of imagination and spirituality  
**

Kate wakes to the cold bed - sweat cooling on her skin almost immediately. Her chest is heaving, her breathing is in gasps and she shakes her head to rid herself of the images - the fear. Her shoulder is aching, the bullet wound not completely healed. No warmth radiates beside her. She reaches out but meets nothing more than rumpled sheets and a dented pillow. Cold. He's been up for awhile. Most of the time when his attention turns to Nikki, which she assumes is the case, she just repositions herself - wraps around his pillow - and falls back asleep but not tonight. It's one of _those _nights and now that her brain has roared to life and turned against her there's no such thing as sleep.

The shirt she's wearing is one of her favorites - a deep purple and soft cotton - but it's clinging to her skin now, damp with sweat. She's too determined to find her writer. Doesn't have the time to waste on finding more clothes - although she does push the constrictive pants down her legs and leave them on his bedroom floor. She doesn't want anything on her skin - even the shirt feels too suffocating after the dream she just woke from, but she leaves it. She's not about to let her overactive brain win this. It was just a bad dream.

And still, she's padding out of his bedroom. She can hear the tapping of his fingers on the keyboard. Her guess is usually always right. It's Nikki that keeps him up late and if she were a lesser woman, she might be jealous. But instead, she finds herself creeping towards his office, careful not to make a sound.

He's at his desk, tapping furiously away and she notes by the look on his face that he's so deep, he won't notice her. He doesn't. She stands in the doorway, watches him the way he watches her when she's working. It's hot to see him like this. To see his imagination flowing from his fingertips and the emotions that flood his face. She bites her lip, crosses her arms. She wants to close the distance between them, distract him with her hands and mouth. She just wants him. In any way she can have him right now.

They'd already be naked if he'd been in the bed when she woke. She always sought him out as a way of a comfort and after their bodies were sated, she would talk about it. Tell him what the nightmare was about and why she just needed him. This night is going to be a little different.

She's torn. Her body is humming, wants the pleasure of forgetting, wants the fingers moving quickly across the keys to write out a story against her skin. But her heart is tightening. Watching him is something beautiful. He's beautiful like this. With only the light from the computer illuminating the room and the shadows dancing over his face. His eyes are tired but alive and she doesn't want to interrupt. She really doesn't but her legs carry her over to him anyway.

He jumps when she touches his shoulder, she almost laughs but can't quite get it out. He turns his head, looks up at her and she offers a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. He doesn't stop typing, just frowns as if he suddenly realizes something.

"Time is it?"

"About four thirty." His hands freeze and she feels his body stiffen.

"I didn't realize I'd been in here that long."

"S'okay Castle, I just couldn't go back to sleep." He turns his chair, buries his face in her chest and wraps his arms around her waist. She loves this. Loves that just by touch, he can make her forget the reason she's awake. The images burning in the back of her mind. He knows. It's like he always knows exactly what she needs and when she needs it.

"Bad dream?" It's mumbled into her and there's no use in lying when his face is pressing into damp cotton. The heat of his words - his breath - sinks into her. Lights her on fire.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you or I would've been there." He doesn't need to say it because she's already aware of it but it's still nice to hear. His fingers slide down the back of her thighs, stroke back up till he's pushing her shirt out of the way to dip his hands in her panties, pull her closer until she has no option but to climb into his lap. She goes without fuss - it's where she wants to be anyway.

"Sorry for ruining your writing spree." She's lying, she's not sorry because she wants him to put his fingers to better use. Her lips attach themselves to his neck, sucking until she feels him stir to life.

"Not a big deal, just a few more paragraphs and this chapter is finished - nothing that can't wait." She pulls a patch of his skin between her teeth, rolls it and lets go. "Kate,"

"Shh." She feels like bursting, letting go of everything and just being. Being with him. She wants him. God, and if possible watching him write makes her want him even more. Her hips rock against him and the hands holding her close dig into her flesh as his breath catches.

"Bedroom."

"No." That means waiting and she doesn't want to wait. She wants to forget, wants to have him inside her, thrusting until she forgets everything but his name. That's all but he's reluctant. She can feel it in his hold, taste it on his skin when her tongue darts out. "Castle, please..."

"I just want to hold you." And it's the sweetest thing she's ever heard. Her arousal takes a back burner, love takes over and yes, she wants him naked and writhing but the second she pulls back to see his eyes, she's hit with a wave of emotion. "You had a nightmare. I want to take you into our bedroom, lay you down, hold you close, and tell you a story until you fall back asleep, Kate."

"That's really sweet."

"Weren't you wearing pants earlier?" She laughs against him, her body shaking, and her lips so close to his. She kisses him, but instead of a wild, frantic, fuck-me kiss. It's soft and loving. Just like him. "Katherine Beckett, did you come in here to seduce me?"

He's being playful, making her feel better about the fact that yes, that's exactly what she'd come to do. It's what she always did and part of her - not her hormones - is glad that he isn't letting her get away with it this time.

"Maybe."

"Minx. Let me save this and we can go back to bed, okay?" She nods, doesn't move from his lap as he lets go of her to reach for the computer. She's holds on to him, ignores the way the desk presses into her back. Her fingers brush a wayward hair off his forehead just as he finishes up. She loves when he looks like this. Tired, boyish - his hair sticking up in strange places. "Not that I don't love the position we're currently in but you're going to have to get up unless you want to sleep in this chair."

She considers it - seriously considers it. She's comfortable against him, just fine with the idea of staying but it would hurt his back. The old man. With a sigh, she forces herself off of him and extends her hand to help him up - ignores the way her shoulder twinges.

"So what's this story about?"

"Unicorns, fairies, rainbows."

"Better not be." He trails along behind her as she heads for the bedroom, his laugh a sound that she never wants to stop hearing.

She stops short of the mattress, lets go of him to rub at the ache her latest injury still provides. He stumbles to catch up, crashes into her back and sends her tumbling onto the bed. He follows, eases over her and captures her lips. Just a quick touch of tongues before he's rolling to the side and propping himself up on an elbow. This playful loving goof.

"Once Upon a Time..."

"Stop it." She's smiling though, despite trying to be serious. "I'm sure an author such as yourself can find something more original."

"I think you're right." There's a brief moment of silence, both of them just enjoying each other. His hand reaches for her, touches the raw puckered flesh that her shirt doesn't hide too well. "Still hurt?"

"Sometimes." When she sleeps on it or thinks about it.

"Is this what your dream was about?" She really wants that story now. She'll take a cheesy beginning if it means she doesn't have to relive it. But this is important to him so she gives a small nod. "Kate?"

He probably can't actually see her.

"It was you. The gun went off and it was you that took the bullet." He reaches, pulls, and she goes willingly into his arms. She can feel his heart - knows it wasn't real. "Just tell me that story."

"In a land far away..." She laughs, kisses his jaw in the darkened room and tangles her legs with his.

"You're ridiculous."

"You love it." She does. "Okay, I'll be serious - The rain pounded against the pavement leaving everything soaked, dripping with the dreary day..."

She hums, closes her eyes to the sound of his voice as he strokes a hand through the tangles of her hair. She listens, let's him distract her with his words - his imagination.

******a/n: I don't know why but I really fell in love with this chapter.**  



	5. Yellow

**Disclaimer: Well, I checked my birth certificate just to make sure I'm not a Marlowe. Sad day. Guess my parents didn't kidnap me after all.  
**

**A/N: My other two stories: Forever and a Day, and Number One have also been updated. So if you read them, be sure to check out the new chapters. They turned out to be some of my favorites. :) Now onto this one.  
**

**Yellow - color of mind and intellect, the practical thinker  
**

There are moments when Castle takes her breath away - steals all the words and air from her lungs and this is one of them. She just asked him over for a dinner. Just spaghetti and garlic bread with a hand tossed salad. Nothing special and yet he's here, at her door, with wine and flowers. This adorable romantic man.

Yellow tulips. That's what he's brought and she just loves that he's not a complete cliche. Although he has brought her roses before but this - the smile he gives as he steps around her and enters her home - it's still so comfortable, so new. Over a year of being together, it still feels new sometimes and it thrills her. There are days she feels as though they've settled nicely into things - some days she feels as if they've become that boring couple. She reads while he watches television - her head in his lap and his fingers dancing through her hair. It's one of her favorite things. One of many.

"These, my dear, are for you." She lets him present the bouquet with a flourish, doesn't even tease. He's clearly enjoying himself. There's no way she's interrupting the playful glint in his eyes. "And so is this."

She looks to his other hand, doesn't see anything but then his lips are pressing into hers and she's closing her eyes - letting her fingers slip through his hair. It's damp - from a shower, she guesses. His scent fills her nostrils, clean and crisp. Definitely a shower, she knows the smell of his soap, his aftershave. It's delicious.

She pulls away as his tongue darts out to play. She cooked. She isn't about to let it get cold. Not when she's starving and it smells so good.

"Let's eat first and then maybe we'll get to dessert."

"There's no maybe about it, Detective." He nips at her bottom lip and she smiles into him. He amazes her. Every single day. "I'll put these in some water for you."

He knows every inch of her apartment. A year and three months of learning it. He knows where she keeps the vases - beneath the sink and he fills one about halfway before he sets the bouquet in it.

She's already made their plates, side by side on her counter and he sits the flower arrangement between them as she steps up next to him. She loves how comfortable he is here. How they've become this after years of dancing around it. And maybe it isn't special, and yeah she's in her pajamas already but this is the perfect time.

She bites her lip, watches him open a drawer to pull out a couple forks. He deserves the best. In everything and this probably isn't it. She tries to talk herself out of it. Tries to tell herself to wait for a bigger moment and then he glances at her, smiles that smile of his - the one that oozes love and wonder - and she reaches. Her fingers wrap around his wrist, push gently until he laying the silverware down.

Moments ago, she didn't want the food to get cold but she isn't sure she cares anymore. Maybe it'll grow cold but this is a little more important right now. At least she thinks it is.

His smile falters, his eyes dimming as if she's about to tell him something he doesn't want to hear. She must look nervous. That's the only reason he would be staring at her like this.

"Kate, are you okay?"

"More than." It's the truth and she beams at him to prove it. His brow furrows, clearly he's not understanding. She steps closer, puts her body between his and the cabinets. Her hands rest on his chest, one over his heart and she's still trying to show him with her eyes that everything is way better than just 'okay'.

He's the best boyfriend she's ever had. He's the only one she wants for the rest of her life. For always. He's there for her, he doesn't judge her - even though she keeps a rainbow colored blanket - he helps her deal with nightmares, takes care of her when she's injured - even when she doesn't want him to - and he knows when to give her space.

He's kinda the perfect man. Okay, maybe not. He has several flaws and she could list all of them but she won't. He's perfect for her and that's what matters. It's unexplainable, a complete mystery, and she never wants to solve it. She just wants to live it.

"Not that I don't love how truly amazed you look right now, but our food is getting cold."

"Leave it."

"But you just..." She knows what she said. She doesn't care.

"Do you know you still surprise me?" He purses his lips, clearly caught off guard. "You do. Just when I think I know everything, you prove me wrong. I love that."

"You still surprise me too. The blanket, the cupcakes, the little things you do to show me that you're in this. All of it, Kate."

"And when you wake me up with those noisy exaggerated kisses along my stomach? I love that." Now he's really confused but he lets her continue, just smiles at the thought. She knows he enjoys those sloppy kisses he presses into her skin. "The way you still drive me absolutely nuts with your theories and crazy beliefs, I love that too."

She tugs him closer, her fingers gripping the collar of his shirt and her body coming to rest against his.

"Castle, I love all of it because it's with you." She feels her heart burst in her chest, begin to beat loudly against her ribs. "I love _you_."

Seconds tick by in silence and she watches his face. Watches as his emotions play out on his features. He softens, looks at her as if she's just told him the best news and she just can't. She has to kiss him, has to mold her lips into his. He kisses back, raises a hand to cup her cheek and she pulls back. It's not about getting carried away. Not yet. Later.

"I already knew - you show me everyday - but I have to admit that it's really good to hear those words."

"I think we should eat our dinner and get to that dessert. Something tells me that it's going to be delicious." She's teasing and she loves him so openly in this moment that it feels so different. She feels free.

* * *

The moment they tumble into bed - clothes absent and skin already slick with a thin sheen of perspiration - she's on him. Straddling, clawing down his chest as she shifts her hips over him. He growls into her chest, bites playfully at the plump flesh of her breast. She giggles, revels in how worked up he gets - how good he is at this.

Their bodies align and she sinks down on him, takes him inside with a moan falling from her parted lips. Head back, eyes half lidded and full of desire, she twists in his lap to adjust. They're so damn good like this. They fit. It's perfect.

She rises and falls over him, let's him guide her with his hands on her hips. A sharp cry escapes her lungs when he sits up, changes the angle of their joining, sending him deeper, pushing and filling. His mouth smothers the sound, swallows every noise she makes when he helps her along by trailing his hand down between them.

This is them. No worries. No fear. Just them. She loves him. Oh how deeply she loves him. She whispers it into his open mouth, let's him taste the words that she's been keeping to herself for far too long. He groans, clings tighter to her as she drops her face into his shoulder - her teeth finding the tender spot along his collar bone that makes him jerk and lose all control.

Her body tightens, muscles fluttering and she knows she's about to crash - she wants to take him with her. It doesn't take much, a wet kiss below his ear, her fingers tugging at his hair and she twists her hips sharply to the left. She breaks, shatters around him, in his arms, his lap. He's right there with her, stilling his movements and straining. She's clutching him, hopes she isn't hurting him as they fall off the ledge together.

**a/n: Who can say awwww?  
**


	6. Gray

**Disclaimer: Nada, not mine.  
**

**A/N: I'm in a mood today - tornadoes last night and all that jazz. And I'm stuck in another bleh kinda outlook. Some days, I wish every review I got could be worth a dollar. There's so many charities I want to donate to and be involved in and I would love to go back to college and finish up my Anthropology degree but I'm stuck living with my parents - after being on my own for almost 5 years - because minimum wage doesn't even pay my student loan payments. I hate all of it. It's that feeling of being stuck.  
**

**But enough ranting, I really love this chapter and hope you do too.**

**Gray - color of compromise, of being neither black nor white  
**

Her blood is no longer boiling - it's more of a simmer. She doesn't even really remember why they fought or why they ended up so angry with each other. She just knows it still hurts to think about the words that were said and the feelings that had been crushed. It doesn't surprise her that this is the third day he hasn't come in to assist with the case but it does make her heart clench. She understands one day to cool down - maybe two - but three? No, she doesn't because she's already forgiving him and he's not even here. Is he still angry? Is that why it's after ten o'clock in the morning and she still hasn't seen nor heard from him since he stormed out of her apartment?

That really hurts too. He's her partner. He promised always and he isn't here. It's not over. It can't be over because she doesn't feel like her entire world is caving in and as stupid as that seems, she knows that's how it'll feel if they ever end this. She's embedded her soul into this relationship. But where the hell is he? Is he really just ignoring her? She said things she didn't mean and she knows he did too but she just wants to apologize and move on.

"Yo Beckett, where's our boy?" She looks up from her desk, unsure of what's even happening at this point. She knows she's supposed to be going through phone records but all she can think about is Castle. Espo is staring, so is Ryan and she's out of excuses. The first day, he had a cold. The second, he was still under the weather but nobody misses work three days in a row for a cold. It's rare that they miss at all.

No he doesn't technically work here but it's the same thing.

"He's uh," She can't keep up with the lying and she knows they're already suspicious. She drops her head the second she drops the act. "I don't know."

Her chest tightens and a lump forms in her throat but she swallows it back down. She isn't going to be like this. Not in front of her boys. She's more than just grateful when they don't pry. Not one question and she silently thanks them with a quick glance. She's not sure she could handle their interrogation tactics right now.

An hour passes, still no sign of him and she checks her phone - for the seventh time. She's about to leave, wants a distraction and if that means talking to the victims girlfriend again about some interesting phone calls, then she'll take it. Still nothing from Castle. No text, no call. Just nothing. She's stubborn and she doesn't want to be the first but she's tired of this. Three days is enough. She types out a quick message and presses send.

_'The boys miss u. So do I, we need to talk.'_ There's no way it's ending like this. It isn't over. She doesn't feel like it's over and this is just ridiculous. She didn't mean any of it. Surely he knows her well enough to know that.

She hears the message go through, a chirping noise from somewhere behind her and her heart starts racing. She turns, sees him walking towards her - two coffees in hand. He's late...but it's better than never. He stops by her desk, just watches her for a few seconds and she's more than content to do the same to him.

"Brought you coffee." He extends the peace offering and she takes it, wraps her hand around the warm disposable mug. He doesn't let go, doesn't let her pull it up to her lips for a sip. His thumb brushes over her pinky, prolonging the moment and turning it into something far more intimate than just exchanging a simple cup. She meets his eyes, stares into the blue and knows they'll be okay. The storm is passing.

She's the one to break contact, to pull the coffee towards her mouth. She needs the taste - the comfort it provides because yes, they're progressing but no, it isn't over yet. They can't just sweep it under the rug.

"Thank you. I was fixing to go talk to the girlfriend again, you coming?" He nods once, follows her to the elevator and she feels the awkward nervousness start to rise.

* * *

The car ride is silent until they hit the first red light.

"I was going to come in this morning. I had planned on being early, surprising you with a coffee already on your desk." She would've loved that. Instead she's spent her morning worrying and being close to tears.

"Why didn't you?"

"I stayed up writing all night, fell asleep at my desk. I woke up with a post-it note stuck to my cheek courtesy of Alexis." She tries not to smile but she does. The image is adorable. She can see him rumpled, drooling, slouched over his desk with a yellow sticky note plastered to his face. "Apparently she knows we're fighting, wants me to fix it."

"I don't even remember the importance of why we're fighting. I just don't want to anymore but you said..." She pauses, takes a breath because the light is green and she needs to collect herself. "You told me that sometimes you feel like I'm still jerking your feelings around and that -"

"I didn't mean it Kate, I was angry and upset but I didn't mean that. I just wanted you to feel the same hurt I was."

"Mission accomplished." It's dry, no humor in her tone at all. "We can't do this - be in this relationship - if the past infiltrates the future. If we play who can hurt whom the most."

"I know, I know that." It gets quiet again, seconds tick by and she steals a glance at him. He's staring at her, eyes full of regret and she can't do this. She can't drive and have this talk. Without even thinking, she turns on her blinker and pulls into an empty lot.

He doesn't ask questions, seems to know exactly what's going on as she kills the engine and releases her seat belt. He does the same with his. They both turn, facing each other for the first time since he stormed out. Okay - she might have told him to 'get the hell out' but that's not really the point.

They're here, together, and they want to fix this and that makes her hopeful. Because she's sorry. Because she doesn't want to lose him.

"Castle, we've never fought like this. We bicker, we have arguments and sometimes we sleep on it in different parts of the city but we've never done this." She isn't quite sure what she's trying to point out but he looks terrified and she feels it. She reaches for his hand, doesn't even care that they haven't fully resolved things yet. She needs the comfort as much as he does. "I thought you weren't coming back. I guess, I just...when I told you to leave -"

"I believe you weren't quite that nice about it." He's trying to lighten the mood and she actually catches herself smiling.

"You're right and I'm sorry. I didn't mean it though, I didn't want you to go. I wanted you to stay - I wanted you to fight me, push me until we both realized we were being stupid. And then you just left and I didn't hear from you for two days."

"I almost stayed but I said things I didn't mean. I saw the look on your face when those words cut through you and I didn't think I deserved your forgiveness for them. I still don't."

"You know that I never intentionally strung you along and played with your emotions, right?" He swallows, she watches his adams apple bob and her stomach drops in anticipation. Surely he knows - she's thought this whole time that she's been making it clear. "Castle, I'm not that kind of person. I don't hurt people on purpose."

And then his hands are cupping her cheeks, wiping at a tear she hasn't even noticed trailing down. She inhales sharply, her breath getting caught in her lungs and tangling. She grips his wrists, lets him nudge her nose lovingly.

"I know that. I know you Kate, I know all of you and I'm so sorry. Things got out of hand. We were both upset and cranky from the case and we took it out on each other." She remembers. Recalls the way he'd tried to touch her, ease her mind and she'd snapped because she was in a bad mood. Accused him of always trying to fix things by glossing over them. Having sex and calling it good. She's the one who started it. "I'm not good at this and it hurt my feelings when you accused me of just wanting sex and not caring about how you felt. No. I want _you_. I was trying to make _you _feel better."

"I don't even know why I said those things. I knew you weren't - you were trying to hold me, just be there and I pushed you away. I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry."

"Let's just agree that we both messed up, but next time, we won't take it out on each other and we'll talk." She nods, closes the distance between their lips and presses a warm kiss into him. She's missed this. Missed the way he feels, the way he tastes. She wants to melt into him, forget all of this but there's a case and she needs to keep her head on straight. "I love you, Kate."

It's a whisper against her parted lips, one that makes her smile.

"And I, you." He slowly lets go, returns to his side of the car. She watches him, stares, for a good five minutes before she knows that it really happened, they are okay. She buckles her seat belt, starts the engine, and presses on the gas. She's just about to turn when his hand comes to rest on her thigh. Where it belongs.

"I know that was a serious much needed talk...but can we maybe revisit the fact that you used the phrase 'mission accomplished' and the word 'infiltrates' all in the same breath?" She laughs, lets her hand fall to rest over his. Yeah, they're back on track.

**a/n: I lied about this story only having 10 chapters. I found more colors I really like. This one for example.  
**


	7. Brown

**Disclaimer: I have a rainbow bracelet and a stick of gum in my purse. Not the rights to Castle.  
**

**A/N: I have a massive head cold right now. So basically I feel awful and I can't breathe because my asthma has also decided to play mean tricks on me. I'm pretty doped up on meds right now so if this chapter doesn't make any sense, I blame that. My medicine makes my hands shake so bad and it makes my brain race with about a billion thoughts all at once. But I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway.  
**

**Brown - color of security and protection. honest, genuine, stable, and sincere.  
**

She feels safest here. It's a silly thought that has her pressing her smile into the warm bare skin of his side. She used to think she felt safest at the twelfth with her Glock on her hip and a badge to show her status but not anymore. No. This is it. _This_ is where she's safe. In his arms. With not a stitch of clothing between them. No weapon. No shiny badge. Just them.

It doesn't matter if it's her apartment or his loft. In this case it's her bed they're currently tangled in. Hers. Theirs. She doesn't really think of things as his or hers anymore. She shares it all - every bit of it. The bed, the pillows, her thoughts, her fears, everything is his too. Even the ridiculous blanket that covers their still flushed skin.

The bright colors are visible even in the dim lighting and she runs her fingers over a patch of yellow that rests on his chest. The tip of her index finger brushes against him, teases along, and despite the fact that her body is humming and buzzing with the after shocks of more than one orgasm, she wants more. Maybe because they'd just had a fun and silly round of fast paced thrusts and groping hands and now she wants something deeper, longer, more.

His hand catches hers, stills her wandering digits by trapping them over his heart. It's still racing. She can feel it. Safe. Home. That's what it is. That's what she feels with each staccato beat beneath her palm. It seems impossible to be this warm and content - to feel so secure - when she's completely naked and curling up in his arms. She should be feeling vulnerable, shouldn't she? But she doesn't.

Her mouth puckers against him, leaving a soft kiss on his pec before she nuzzles her nose into him. He chuckles, chest expanding with it and part of her - a rather low part of her - catches fire. Maybe she's just in an insatiable mood - she's not sure but something has her wanting him again. So soon. She doesn't care. She shifts against him until she can slide her leg over his, curl it around until her wet heat is pressing against his thigh. Seeking. Taking. She rolls her hips, lets her mouth close over his flat nipple.

"Kate," She bites, smiles when he grunts in what she knows is painful pleasure. With a final swipe of her tongue, she retreats, looks up to catch the blue of his eyes. "I need more than two minutes."

"Shame." She's teasing, can't help herself because she doesn't need more. Another shift of her hips, sliding, rocking over his leg and he lets out a curse.

"You're killing me."

She hums, closes her eyes for a brief moment. His hand moves up to her hair, strokes through the waves and she knows what he's doing. He's coaxing her, trying to get her to relax. He knows it makes her drowsy, puts her to sleep when they're watching movies on the couch.

"What's got into you tonight?" She almost snorts. Almost answers with a terribly cliche 'you' but it's too easy. He set it up perfectly but she isn't going to take the bait. She lets his question sink in, tries to pinpoint why she's in a 'needy' mood. She can't. She should be exhausted after the day they had - after an already satisfying round of lovemaking but she isn't. She's wide awake, craving more. "Everything okay?"

Her heart seizes. Of course he's asking. Because even though they've been together for well over a year - she does tend to turn to sex when something is bothering her. Nightmares, bad days, thoughts she's scared of - yeah, she tends to pin him to the bed, have her wicked way with him but he's started fighting back. Making her face it first and then if she's still in the mood, they'll - for lack of better term - fuck it out.

He holds her when she wakes from a nightmare. Puts in her favorite movie when she's had a bad day. Makes her laugh when she starts thinking too much. And when all else fails, he digs the rainbow blanket out from under her bed and surprises her with it. It's become their thing. Although lately, she leaves it, doesn't even bother putting it back in the box. It just stays on her bed - sometimes folded at the foot of it.

His fingers glide through the ends of her hair, dance along her collarbone and then he's touching the bullet scar on her shoulder. The most recent of battle wounds - just months old. It doesn't hurt anymore. Occasionally it pulls but if he's thinking it's the cause of her insatiable appetite then he's wrong.

"Just want you." It's honest. Sincere. And she's hit with an overwhelming need to be his safe haven. To protect him. To show him that she's his harbor during a storm. Maybe it's because of their fight last week or maybe she's just in a mood. Either way, she's up for going at it all night long. Until her muscles ache and her strength is gone. She stretches against him, raises up until she can leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to just below his ear. She rests there, let's her voice take on a smoky lilt. "Come on, Castle, let's make love."

The air leaves her lungs when he suddenly twist and rolls, taking her along for the ride. She's flat on her back, staring up into his face, mouths so close she can already taste him. Her tongue darts out, wets her lips and she watches his eyes follow the move. Safe. She wonders if he feels it too. She pushes up from the pillow, molds her open mouth to his - slow and steady. Takes what he gives and pushes at the blanket until it's no longer covering them.

She hopes he does. Feel safe. Feel protected. She thinks he does. She's pretty sure they're each others protectors. In every way possible. She's never loved anyone...until him. It's fierce, powerful, completely unforgiving in it's depth. He breaks their kiss, slowly descends to her neck and she's glad that he's keeping the pace. She's not kidding. She wants to do this until they can't anymore. Until sleep forces them to stop.

She remembers the last time they did this. They made it to almost five thirty in the morning and she'd been the one to pass out. She's determined to wear him out, make him be the first to succumb to the realm of sleep. So she can watch over him. See the lines on his brow smooth out as he drifts off, watch as the years melt away and he becomes younger.

His teeth and tongue leave a path from the scar on her shoulder to the one between her breasts. His hand caresses the worst of them, the one along her ribs. His fingers tiptoeing over it, sliding back down in a soothing stroke. It always makes her shiver. A full body affair that has her toes curling and her hands clenching at his back. He stops, pulls away, and she forces her eyes to open, to find his in the dark.

She lets him look, almost asks why he's stopped but before the words are out, he drops his head back to her chest and sucks at her breast. She moans, pants, when his teeth clamp over the sensitive peak. Her body is on fire. Blazing hot, still buzzing from their first round and she knows this will be more intense. It always is. She almost feels guilty because she knows he needs a few more minutes before he'll be up for anything but then his lips are sliding down her stomach, tongue dipping in her navel and she doesn't feel so bad. She'll make it up to him later.

His hands grip her hips, hold her in place as his kisses dance lower. She's squirming, her hands gripping his hair. She's torn between pulling him back up to kiss him senseless or guiding him lower. He chooses for her, parts her thighs and dips his head between. Her spine arches, head thrown back into the pillow as a low moan fills the air.

Her thoughts cease, time stops, and she knows - _knows _- he feels just as safe.

**a/n: This is apparently what happens when I mix my asthma meds with cold meds. I've never really liked the color brown...until now.  
**


	8. Orange

**Disclaimer: Pretty sure I wouldn't be behind on my student loan payments if I had any sort of rights to Castle.**

**A/N: Because I love...well, you'll see. **

**Orange - color of optimism, adventure, communication. Bringer of spontaneity. Relates to 'gut instincts'**

Her legs are numb, body filled with adrenaline, gun hanging limply at her side now. She lost him. Her suspect is gone and she's quickly looking around - trying to catch a glimpse of him. Nothing. There's nothing. How did he just disappear? She looks to her left, eyes the dumpster. Maybe. She raises her arms, aims just in case and stalks over cautiously.

Heart pounding, blood singing, she gets that feeling deep in her bones. That sense of belonging and then she's looking inside and all she sees is garbage. Rotten smelly trash that has her nose burning in protest. She almost gags - but she's handled worse.

Castle comes up behind, huffing a little and she makes a note to tease him later. Not right now because she's more than a little sore that the guy is gone.

"Where'd he go?" She tosses a look over her shoulder. Really? Does he think she actually knows the answer to such a ridiculous question. If she did, the guy would be in cuffs and she wouldn't be toeing her way around a dumpster. "Right. Dumb question."

She hums her consent, holsters her weapon. She's just about to say, mouth open and words forming, when she feels something beneath her foot - hears a pain filled yowl that has her scrambling to see what her foot just landed on. The sound stops, a quiet gurgling remains but whatever she stepped on is gone. There's nothing by her boot.

"What was -"

"Castle shush." She listens, quickly crouches down and lets her eyes settle between the dumpster and the brick building behind it. A tiny space that offers no room at all to maneuver. That's when she sees it. "Oh my god...oh my -"

"What? What is it? I can't see anything!" Of course he's trying to peek over her shoulder but she's busy reaching for the thing. The tiny shaking ball. She expects some type of reaction, a growl - something defensive but it doesn't come. Instead the thing just steps closer to her and she has no idea how it's even alive.

There's blood coating its white and gray fur, an obvious wound to it's head that's causing blood to drip from its nose and mouth. Oh. She can't just leave it here. She probably should but she can't because it's slowly dragging itself to her and she lets her fingers gently close around its small body. She pulls it free, automatically cradles it into her chest as she stands.

It's huddling against her front and Castle is suddenly doing the same to her back. She turns, lets him see the tiny face, the pointed ears the swollen infected mess that's supposed to be its right eye. That's where most of the blood seems to be coming from. She's getting it all over her hand.

"Is that -"

"A kitten." She's not this type of person - okay she is. She's always had a thing for animals. Especially the injured ones but this seems pointless. The hesitation shows on her partner's face and she knows exactly what he's thinking. Its chest is barely moving - there's too much blood. She needs to put it down.

"Kate, I don't...it looks dead." He's right. But one green eye stares at her - blinks slowly and it's filled with so much pain and suffering. She can't. She can not just leave it here to die.

"C'mon Castle, I think there's an animal hospital a few blocks down - we can drop him off there. Give him a chance." She doesn't wait around to hear his thoughts - practically sprints. She needs to get to the car. Oh. She needs to drive. Or she could let him drive but...no, she needs to drive. She waits until he catches up, holds the tiny battered fluff out toward him. He pauses, doesn't reach for it and she lets her eyes meet with his.

"Kate, I really think it's already -"

"He's not!" She doesn't know why she snaps or why she's calling it a 'he' but she startles herself just as much as she startles her writer. "He's still breathing. Take him."

The kitten feels so broken, so limp and she knows that Castle is probably right. She knows it but she can't just take him back and toss him in the alley. She won't.

"Okay, I'll hold him but we should probably hurry." She breathes out a sigh of relief when he reaches for the kitten and she finds herself smiling. He's gentle, his hands caressing and soothing - careful to avoid the most obvious of injuries and the blood. She knows he's a dog person but he's being so easy and the thing is just so small.

They both stay silent for the rest of the trip to the car - the drive to the small animal hospital. She keeps glancing at the kitten, watching to make sure his lungs are still expanding. She really doesn't need to. His breathing makes a gurgling sound - something she knows isn't a good sign. At least it's not in humans. She assumes it isn't all that different with animals.

She won't lie, she rushes through the door, pushing Castle along in front of her because he's the one still holding the dying kitten. No. Not dying. Just injured. The injured kitten. She doesn't know how to do this - is it like a hospital or does she just wait in line...

It's not worth thinking about - she's here to do a job and she does it. She doesn't care that there are people sitting in chairs clearly waiting, she stumbles to the counter and tugs Castle's arm until he's right there with her. The young girl behind the desk gasps when she notices whats going on.

"Oh my god, what happened to this little one?"

"We don't know. I found him behind a dumpster in an alley...can he be saved?" That's all she wants to know. But the look she's getting isn't very reassuring. The young brunette reaches for the kitten and Castle hands it over.

Kate watches as the little ball of fur is passed to someone else who carries it out of sight. She feels a weight settle on her shoulders and she tries not to think about it. She needs to just get back to the precinct. She's done all she can and she really hopes that it's enough. She isn't getting the answer she wants to hear by just standing around waiting on a kitten.

The case. That's what she needs to get back to and with a somewhat solemn look in the direction they took the baby cat, she sucks in a breath. She turns to leave, doesn't wait for her partner to follow. She just walks out.

Her fingers are sticky. The red coating them is mixed with white and gray fur. She should've washed her hands first but she can't bring herself to go back inside so she doesn't. She waits in the car - digs through the glove compartment for tissues but she can't find any. She sits awkwardly with her hand in her lap, only turning when the passenger door opens.

She gives him a small smile, let's him wrap his fingers around her wrist. He's clearly more level headed about this. She feels it before she looks down. The press of something damp and cool on her skin. Paper towels. She doesn't stop him, doesn't take over. She just lets him wipe away the reminder.

When the last spot is gone, he brushes his thumb along the back of her hand and she leans into him. Lets her mouth press into his, open and warm. He doesn't pull away, lets her take. And she does but only briefly. Just a quick show of affection.

"Thanks, Castle."

"He'll be okay, Kate." He's just trying to make her feel better but she hopes so. She hopes the little guy has a long life ahead of him. They always say cats have nine lives, right?

* * *

It took hours - so many minutes and seconds wasted as she tried to sleep. It didn't even help that Castle was tucked in behind her, holding her against his chest. She couldn't sleep. She lost their suspect. She found a kitten. It probably didn't make it. She hopes it did. So many thoughts that she just wanted to shush. It took hours.

Till at least three in the morning and yet, she's still rolling over to Castle's side and reaching for him a little before seven. He isn't there. She frowns, doesn't open her eyes just pats the sheet like he'll randomly materialize beneath her hand. It doesn't happen. She cracks open one eye, fights against the light that pours in. She hates restless nights. They leave her drained and just grumpy.

She chooses not to move - to just lie for a few more minutes. She needs to get up, get dressed, and head out but she just can't convince her body of this. She's half expecting the smell of coffee or some form of breakfast but there's nothing. No sound at all drifting through the loft.

That's what has her moving. No soft clicking of a keyboard, no rattling of pots and pans, no distinct aroma of delicious mouth watering coffee. She sits up, looks around just to be sure he's not watching from the distance. He does that sometimes but nope. Nothing. She pushes her hair out of her face, clumsily crawls out of bed.

Making her way through his office, she stumbles over one of his shoes and kicks it out of the way with a curse. It's his house but really? This happens almost every morning. She's rubbing a hand over her face when she steps into the living room. He isn't there. She doesn't really understand but she'll just ask him later. Coffee now. Lots of coffee.

She really loves his kitchen but she can't lie, the coffee maker is probably her favorite part. Today though, there's something different about it. A piece of paper stuck to the front of it catches her attention. Of course he's the type to do this. She shakes her head in affection, grabs the white square with his scribbles on it.

_Went out. Will be back with coffee._

She assumes the little heart at the end is his way of signing it. And she really shouldn't but it's cute and she can't help herself, she smiles. He's such a girl. It's one of those things she loves. She debates waiting or just making a cup to hold her over till he gets here. She thinks it over, bites her lip and narrows her eyes. She'll wait.

As soon as she turns around, she hears the door click open and her eyes immediately dart towards the sound. She watches as he steps through, two coffees balanced in one hand while his other is wrapped around...what?

"Castle...what -"

"I might've brought you something more than just coffee." Her eyebrows raise because this is _obviously_ 'more' than coffee. He's holding a small bag of cat food.

"If this is about yesterday, I don't want a cat - I just didn't want him to die. I know he most likely didn't make it, but -"

"Actually," He sits the food down next to the open door, steps back out into the hallway and Kate knows. She knows before he ever comes back into view with a pet carrier what he's done. "He did make it and he needs a place to stay."

"What did you do?"

"I gave them my number, told them to call if he survived." She pinches the bridge of her nose - wards off the headache that's coming on. She doesn't have time for this and yet, her heart is seizing in her chest. Because he really thought this through. "I thought...I thought you'd want to know if he was alive."

He's right. She hates it but he's right and she can't be mad at him when he's closing the door with his foot and holding up the cage like it's the best present he's ever given her. She's curious. She is because there's no way. None. That little baby fur ball was practically dead in her hands.

"Is that -" She can't even bring herself to ask but he gives a nod and she lets her legs carry her over. She wants to see. He meets her halfway, puts the carrier down on the couch. She doesn't say a word, kneels until she's face to face with the little creature. "Oh...but how?"

One curious green eye blinks back at her - the other is stapled shut and her heart shatters.

"No idea. They don't know either, apparently he's a tough little guy. He only has one eye now but the vet said there isn't anything else wrong with him. The pressure from the infection was doing the most damage. He's still groggy from surgery, but it's supposed to wear off in a few hours."

"Castle, we can't...I don't know why you did this."

"Because you cared enough to give him a fighting chance." She looks up at him from her spot on the floor, wishes he was down here with her because the intensity in that blue gaze is enough to have her wanting him. Right here. Right now. Kitten or no. She doesn't care. Okay, she cares a little because it's weird to think about someone watching. "C'mon Kate, I can't just take him back. He doesn't have anywhere to go and they'll put him down if we take him to a shelter."

Something tugs in her chest and she reaches to open the cage door. It snaps, scares the tiny body within it and she finds herself shushing him gently, trying to calm him down. She's not much a cat person. She likes them just fine but she's always seen herself getting a dog.

She slides her hand inside, lets him sniff. He nudges her fingers, licks the pad of her thumb and she's gone. Carefully extracting him, she gives her partner a look. All warmth and wonder. He really outdid himself with this. She knows he's a dog person but this is...he's a good man.

"He's really okay?"

"Yeah, I asked. Even grilled the vet over his breathing and the fact that blood was coming out of his nose yesterday and today he's looking the world over as if nothing ever happened. Well, except for the having only one eye thing." She gives his chin a scratch, smiles when he starts purring. He's a scrawny thing. All bone and fuzz. "She said he would've died if we hadn't brought him in. He had a pretty nasty infection."

"Castle, what are we supposed to do with a cat?"

"Feed it, I suppose. I hear that's how they stay alive." She stifles a laugh and pushes herself up from the floor. The kitten looks so much better than it did but it's still malnourished.

"I...okay." What else is there to say? She's already holding him and she'd be lying if she said she isn't relieved by the fact that he's alive.

"Great, I have more things out in the car." She doesn't ask. Doesn't need to because she can just imagine him shopping. "Oh and we have to take him back in two weeks to get the staples removed and get him started on his shots. He's on an antibiotic until then too."

Why is she agreeing to this? Oh right, because she fell in love with the little beast the moment she rescued him and because Castle knew it.

"Just go get the stuff for him, so I can get in the shower. Mister and I will wait here." She's scratching the kitten's ears, listening to him purr and yeah, maybe the day isn't so bad after all.

"Mister?"

"It's something to call him until we figure out a name." She's really doing it. She's taking care of a battered kitten in Castle's loft. It's theirs. They have a cat. She isn't sure why, but for some reason that's okay. She carries him back to the bedroom - he can keep her company while she picks out something to wear. She's chuckling by the time she makes it through the doorway, of course they ended up with a one eyed kitten. It's oddly fitting for them.

**a/n: I have a one eyed cat. He's amazing because this is exactly how we found him. Tiny, barely breathing, and covered in blood. There's a picture of him now on my twitter because he's my Castle watching buddy. I wrote this because I'm a crazy cat lady at the age of 22. I've sort of resigned myself to being single forever because of this, haha. **


	9. Silver

**Disclaimer: Some days, I like to pretend I'm a writer but I've never pretended to own Castle.  
**

**A/N: Another chapter of this lovely collection because today is a down-in-the-dumps kinda day. That's my excuse for kitten cuteness and funny adorable sexy times.  
**

**Silver - color of illumination and reflection. Calming, purifying.**

It's a form of people watching - okay, car watching because it's somewhere around three in the morning but the streets still provide some form of mind numbing entertainment. Kate isn't sure how long she's been standing here, staring out the windows of the loft's living room. But she's not the only one who isn't resting.

Something furry brushes her bare leg and she smiles down at the little ball of fuzz. She never thought she'd have a cat. A cat with Castle. It just seems crazy but he's theirs. He looks better, he's healthier - a little on the pudgy side now that he has food sitting out just waiting to be eaten. She loves it, his little round belly and the fact that he always stares up at her, puts his paws up on her shins as if he's trying to climb her legs. Thank goodness he doesn't actually try.

The claws would not make it a pleasant experience. She bends, lifts him from the floor and tucks him up under her chin. He licks her jaw, rubs his face into hers as he purrs.

"Hey there, little buddy. You come to join me?" Yes, she's talking to a kitten. It's not something she's necessarily ashamed of either. He's a good listener. Doesn't backtalk. She gives his ear a scratch - rubs the top of his head affectionately and returns her attention to the city lights and streets below. "I don't blame you, Castle's not much company when he's starfished across the bed."

She gets a quiet meow as her reply.

"You still need a name." Almost three weeks and they've been calling him buddy or mister. Although Castle seems to be using 'damn cat' a lot more lately. She chuckles at just the thought. It seems the kitten believes that she is the only who is lovable. He's not Castle's biggest fan. The claws always come out, and occasionally he hisses whenever her writer tries to touch her.

The gray and white ball needs something fitting, something that suits him. She's taking it a little too seriously but she can't help it. He's been through a lot. She felt so bad when they took him back to the vet to get his staples removed. He just blinked at her, meowed, tried to scramble off the table and back into her arms. Yeah, she's whipped. By a kitten.

"Something strong." Suddenly she isn't able to see to the cars below because his face is blocking her line of site. His nose ghosting over hers and she strokes over his back to try and soothe his need for attention.

She hears her partner before he ever speaks. The soft sounds of his bare feet across the floor. She doesn't turn, knows he'll either join her or get a glass of water and go back to bed. Sometimes he does that. Just leaves her to her own devices once he's sure she's okay.

"You could call him Leo since he's such a lion." She smirks, eases back when a pair of arms wrap around her waist and that tired voice drifts into her ear. "Little thing is a beast."

"He's a sweetheart." But even she knows it's not entirely the truth. Her body settles against Castle's chest, his chin on her shoulder and the kitten blinks slowly. His green eye curious. "See he isn't even protesting that you're touching me."

"We've reached an understanding."

"Oh, do tell."

"I told him that he's not the only man in your life and he's just going to have to accept the fact that I get cuddles too." She barks out a laugh, turns her head to let her lips land on his cheek.

"Well, I'm glad you two have overcome your differences." This is ridiculous. She's really having this conversation, standing in a moonlit bathed living room, Castle pressing into her back and a kitten squirming in her arms. They've become _that _couple. Oh wow. She couldn't even stand him when he started following her around and now she's in love with him, practically living in his home, sharing custody of a fur ball. "But I'm not naming him Leo."

"You could name him Cyclops - call him Cy for short."

"That's just mean."

"A little." It is. There's no way she's naming her one eyed kitten Cyclops. "What do you think buddy, what name do you want?"

"Are you really expecting him to answer?" She turns in his arms, lets their kitten rest between their chests as she catches her partners gaze. "He's a cat."

"You ask him questions too." She chooses to ignore his observation. She isn't about to admit it, instead she steps out of his hold, sets the pudgy kitten down on the floor. He's too squirmy to hold for long.

"I like Odin." It has a nice ring to it and it's been in her head for a few days but she isn't sure it fits.

"King of Norse gods, gave up an eye to obtain wisdom and power, that Odin?"

"Yeah - I like the reference but he's too lovable and playful. I just can't think of anything that fits him." She lets her forehead fall to Castle's chest, lets her fingers dance over his hips to pull him close. She's starting to feel tired.

"Wanna tell me why you're up at three in the morning?"

"Just thinking."

"Good or bad thinking?" If she's being honest, it's a bit of both. The good and the bad. The beautiful and the horrid. Her relationship. Her past relationships. Just everything. Some nights her brain just refuses to power down. To rest. To shut off and just shut up. Tonight is one of those nights. "Kate?"

Crap. She's being too quiet. She lifts her head, steps further into his embrace, toys with the hem of his shirt as she meets his stare. His eyes look almost gray in the moonlight that spills through the windows. A silvery tint dances over everything, casting shadows but she's no longer paying attention to anything other than him. She lets her hands slip beneath the fabric covering him, stroke up the bare skin of his back.

"Mostly good. I was actually," She leans in, lets her lips ghost over his with every word. "thinking that I spend more nights here than I do at home."

"_This_ is your home but we can make it official." She draws back, just an inch, but she's readying herself to make an excuse. Explain why that isn't possible. Her mind is blank. Nothing. No reasons for why she can't take this step with him. She doesn't say anything - she's pretty sure it's written all over her face and it's highly probable that he knows her reply the second her mouth presses against his.

Light, soft, a mesh of lips and her tongue tracing along the seam, asking for permission. There's a rush of heat through her veins. It settles between her thighs and she's pushing against him, molding her body into his as he nips and tugs on her bottom lip. A moan - she isn't sure from whom - breaks the silence.

And then his lips are moving, forming words against her mouth. She smiles into him, wide and eyes crinkling. She loves when he does his. When his sentences are whispered into her.

"Move in, Kate. Just move in." Maybe she'll think about it later - come to the conclusion that this is obviously a big thing but her heart isn't accepting logic. Its too busy bursting with a giddy excitement.

She nods, steals a quick kiss as her hands slide down his pajama pants. Squeeze at his flesh until he's hardening, pushing into her, hips shifting against her own. She takes a few steps backwards, making him follow, never taking her hands off of his ass. She's too busy thinking of what happens when she gets these clothes off.

"I can do that."

"Yeah?" His palms caress her stomach as they stumble over something in the middle of the living room. She doesn't look, doesn't care because he's pulling up on the cloth and she's raising her arms. For a brief second they're not touching, her shirt floats down to land on the floor and he's just staring. Something dark and brilliant swirling in his eyes. He isn't ashamed of the way his eyes dance over her bare chest.

She's not ashamed either. Just pleasantly buzzing, cool air and the heat of his gaze making her skin ache to be touch. She reaches for his hand. Their fingers meet, brush, meld together and she pulls him back to _their _room. With _their _bed.

"Sit down on the bed." He doesn't. He just stands there, hands dangling between them as she pushes at his shoulders but then something flashes across his face and his palm is on her breast, massaging the mound, pinching at the peak until she's not exactly sure she wants him to do anything but touch her. "Castle..."

"No. You sit on the bed." Oh god. His voice. It's low, rough, commanding and damn if it doesn't do it for her. She almost chooses defiance, almost makes him work for it but she isn't in the mood.

Somewhat stunned by the fact that she's offering him some fun and he's turning it around on her, she sits. Stiffly. Feet still planted on the ground and palms resting at her sides. Eye level with a very prominent part of his anatomy, she bites her lip, watches as he sheds his clothing not even a foot away. She loves him. The way he takes charge sometimes, pushes her limits. But she still can't help herself, she has to tease, has to make sure he's not just going to leave her hanging all night. Or have her begging. She doesn't beg. At least not right now.

"You planning on joining me or do I need to start without you?" He invades her space, the heat of his body so close she can almost taste it. Suddenly her tongue feels too dry, her throat parched. She wants to taste.

"Lean back." Her gaze lifts, meets with his and she narrows her eyes. Shakes her head no. "Lean back, Beckett."

She raises an eyebrow, clenches the blankets in her hands. He's being bossy. And he's using her surname. It shouldn't be as hot as it is but her skin flushes with fire, betraying her.

"No."

"Fine." He kneels, pushes her knees apart until she's opening her legs and letting him settle between. His breath ghosts over the inside of her thigh and her body shivers, prepares for his touch. He's always so possessive like this. Sometimes warm and soft, sometimes fast and rough. Her muscles clench as she stares down at him. Tensing, humming, needing, wanting, buzzing. So many words she could use to describe the sensations racing through her but she stops thinking, just watches his fingers skim along, barely pressing against her until he reaches the hem of her panties. Warm and soft it is.

He tugs a little roughly though - makes her head spin as she lifts her hips, lets him pull them off. Maybe not so warm and soft. She's panting, he's barely touched her and she's already worked herself up into a frenzy. She's close - might not even need his touch - and then his lips press into her thigh and her brain screams at her. She needs it.

His tongue traces over her skin, strokes higher with each passing sweep and her eyes are stuck, glued to him as he does this. She gives in to the urge and cards her fingers through his hair making him hum against her. The vibration has her wanting to clench her legs together, trap him in place until he stops teasing. She doesn't. But she wants to.

She wants so many things. Him. His hands. _Something_.

"Castle," It's a breathy moan, she's not even sure it's really his name. He hasn't touched her - not where she aches for it - but she's already hovering on the edge. She's really doing this. She's moving in. A pulse zings through her, clenches uncomfortably between her thighs. She needs him to hurry, because all of this is really working for her. The situation. Moving in, knowing this is now her bed, her room, theirs. It's theirs. "Ours. Our room."

She doesn't realize she's said it out loud until his fingers finally caress her, slide against, and she's already there. Dangling. Fingers gripping his hair as he smirks up at her. She knows that smirk. That filthy beautiful smirk.

"_This_ is ours too." Later she'll have something to say about the way he emphasizes what 'this' stands for. The way he presses his hand against her, slips his fingers inside but she can't now. Her back is too busy arching, body shivering as he finally gives her what she wants. She pulses around him, tightening until her muscles ache from the strain. Almost. So very close.

He tosses her over easily. A curl of his fingers and his teeth sinking into her thigh and she's done. Gone. Falling back into the mattress with a curse. The delicious murky depths of pleasure she's swimming in gets interrupted when he grabs her hips, pushes her further up the bed. He's crawling over her, she knows that much by the way the mattress dips and the feel of his body heat but she's still not opening her eyes just yet.

"Let's name him Voyeuristic Vincent." She blinks, looks up at him with a frown.

"What?"

"The cat. We have an audience." She didn't shut the door. Oh. She looks over and sure enough, she's met with a curious looking kitten. His green eye shines in the dark, gives away the fact that he's stalking towards them.

"Ew. Oh that's..." She wants to say weird. But she's not actually sure she cares much when Castle is suddenly dipping his head to suck at her neck. Then it meows and she just can't. She can't when there is a kitten in the room. Maybe it's stupid but she just can't. She feels awkwardly embarrassed knowing that it watched when she...yeah, nope she can't. "Castle, stop."

"I'll put him in my office, okay?"

"Thanks." He doesn't tease. Just gets up, takes the kitten out of the room and comes back with a smile on his face that lights up the dimly lit room. "Sorry...I just-"

"Or Tom, since he's a peeper." She laughs, can't help herself really because he's being ridiculous and the mood is completely gone. She's sure it'll come back but for now, she's rolling on her side as he climbs back into bed - no longer in desperate need to jump his bones.

"No."

"Lewd Lenny?"

"Castle." It's supposed to be a warning but he's pulling her closer, burying his face in her neck and somehow it sounds more like a plea. Okay, maybe the moment isn't ruined...

"No? Hm. I guess we could go with Scopophiliac Scout." She opens her mouth against his shoulder as he shifts his hips, pulls her leg up and over his waist. Mood returned. Apparently he never let it leave. She sighs into him - one cheek on the pillow, the other against his neck - as he joins their lower halves with a gentle thrust. "Ollie the Ogler?"

"Stop it." It shouldn't be funny. She shouldn't be laughing but she is. Her body shakes with it and he growls, clutches her tighter as they rock their hips. Really it shouldn't be amusing at all that he's trying to name their kitten in the middle of sex but he's a ridiculous goon sometimes.

He gets quiet, catches her mouth with his own, steals her breath. Minutes. Seconds. She doesn't know how much time passes but her fingers are digging into his back with each thrust, her lips attaching to his jaw as he rolls her over, pushes on her until she's beneath him. That's when she hears it, the soft padding of tiny paws and then a high pitched meow comes from somewhere next to his side of the bed.

Castle stops, his body stills and she suddenly wishes the fuzz ball would just go away. Ten minutes. Ten more minutes is all she's asking for. They can rush. Her partner lets out a frustrated chuckle against her chest but neither of them move.

"Didn't you shut the door?"

"Yes."

"Then how is he in here?"

"No idea." She wants to press him for a more logical answer but he's straining with the one and two words right now. She feels bad, she does and yet she still 'accidentally' twists her hips when she moves to look down at their visitor. "Jesus, Kate!"

She'll have bruises tomorrow from the way he's gripping her sides. She does it again. Tries to get him to just give in, get it over with so she can deal with the cat. At least the little guy can't see anything from where he's sitting. And it's dark...but he's a cat so he can see better than she can right now.

"Go away!" She bats at the kitten - not trying to actually hit him just hoping he'll scare and run off for a few minutes but he doesn't. He just swings his paw at her hand thinking it's playtime. She groans, swats again and this time, he darts under the bed. She can deal with him being under the bed. "Faster Castle, hurry."

"We're really...even with the - okay." She kisses him, shuts him up with her tongue in his mouth and her nails biting into his skin. Hips pushing up into his, setting the pace as something quick and deadly. He pulls away, rests his forehead against hers and meets every slick slide of her body. Mouths open, panting, bodies dancing together.

It's a fast climb, she knows he'll give out, give in. And he does. His rhythm falters, skids to a stop as he tenses - a low rumble spills from his chest and she sinks back into the pillows, lets her body go limp. She pulls him down to rest on her chest, giggles a little when he nuzzles her.

"You know Kate, it's your fault."

"What is?"

"That the cat wants to be in the room with you at all times. You spoil him." She pinches his back. And then she yelps when he bites her breast in retaliation.

"Maybe a little. But I think I have the perfect name for him now."

"I knew you'd be a fan of Ollie the Ogler." She snorts out a laugh, shakes her head. How she ended up falling for such a man child is beyond her...but she wouldn't trade him for any other.

"No." She pauses, mainly for dramatic purposes and because she knows he hates waiting. "Houdini. I want to call him Houdini because clearly, he's an escape artist."

"I like it. I think it fits the ball of terror."

"He's not a terror."

"He hates me and I'm the one who saved him from a terrible fate at a shelter."

"Maybe because you call him names." The cat doesn't hate him. They just have an interesting relationship and Houdini doesn't seem to trust men very much at all. It's not just Castle. When they took him back to the vet, he'd clawed himself away from a male technician. "He likes you compared to other guys."

"Takes after his Momma." Something squeezes in her chest, near the scar between her breasts and she hopes that he doesn't notice the soft puff of air that leaves her lungs. It's not a serious comment, he's not thinking of her being an actual mother but now she is.

"Yeah, well, then he has good taste. You're a pretty good man." She's not thinking of kittens anymore but babies. Tiny hands and feet, crying, soft skin, blue eyes. Oh. She wants their kids to have blue eyes...and when did she start thinking like this? She needs to stop. Change the subject. Something because she doesn't want to do this. Isn't going to let herself think of things that may never happen. She doesn't even know if that's something he wants with her. "Sleep. We need to sleep."

"Do you think we could start moving your stuff today? Just the important little things - the books you love, our rainbow blanket, maybe your clothes."

"Castle, seriously, let's sleep."

"At least your clothes, that way -"

"I'm not kidding, if you don't hush, I won't let you help me pack." He's silent, finally but he still plants a noisy kiss to her neck, followed by one to her lips and she can't hide the smile. Doesn't try. She's moving in. That's a pretty big deal.

**a/n: Because sex isn't always perfect. It's messy. And funny. And you have to be able to laugh about it. Random question: What's your favorite book or book series? I'm looking for new and interesting things to read.  
**

**Also shamelessly promoting my new Castle story 'And She Cries' it's an AU take on how he started following her around. Lots of feels, angst, romance. Beckett's thoughts. Yep.**


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